


He's not a Snack, He's a Full Course Meal

by iwriteficsnotstories



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Cooking Class, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friend Allura (Voltron), Best Friend Hunk (Voltron), Big Brother Shiro (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Confused Sexuality (for like, Cooking Class, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff (no angst allowed), Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, M/M, Mario Kart Extraordinaire Pidge | Katie Holt (Voltron), Mario Kart References, Smitten Lance (Voltron), broganes, fast burn, two chapters)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-05-15 05:30:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14784431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwriteficsnotstories/pseuds/iwriteficsnotstories
Summary: Lance didn't expect anything out of this cooking class. Not new friends, better cooking skills, and certainly not a pretty and funny boy with a mullet.This is going to be a fun eight weeks.





	1. Bros Before Hoes but what if the Hoe's a Bro?

**Author's Note:**

> this is so all over the place that it should be considered crack but it's not.
> 
> this fic is gonna be written from Lance's POV because I find that I can relate the most to him and that helps when writing, if that makes any sense. Enjoy!

When he spots Hunk’s yellow Jeep coming down the street, Lance sends a quick Snap to his Story before rushing down the front steps. 

 

As soon as the car stops Lance opens the door and throws himself in the seat beside Hunk. “What’s up, Hunk?”

 

Hunk adjusts his mirror before putting the car into reverse, backing out of the driveway with practiced ease. “I’m  _ so _ excited, Lance. I had to drink two glasses of milk to fall asleep.”

 

“Only you, Hunk,” Lance says while shaking his head, “But I’m kind of excited too.”

 

“Remember, the class starts at eight this week, but next week onwards it starts at seven.”

 

“Got it,” Lance grins. “I honestly don’t think a cooking class is going to do me any good, I’m only here for you”

 

Hunk's cooking hobby started out when he was pretty young. His moms had never been a big fan of—or good at—cooking or even using the kitchen, meaning most meals were bland, burnt or take-out. So Hunk had taken it upon himself to bring good food into their home, looking up recipes and watching Food Network. It turned out he had a natural gift for it, and eventually his moms allowed him to use the kitchen however he pleased despite only being twelve years old.

 

“And I truly appreciate it,” Hunk says, grinning.

 

“I could’ve driven,” Lance says, even though they’re already in the process of turning onto the main road. “You could’ve had time, to like, hype yourself up or something.”

 

“How about,” Hunk suggests, “ _ you  _ hype me up and  _ I’ll  _ make sure we get to the restaurant in one piece, yeah?”

 

Lance crosses his arms and slides further down into the seat as Hunk continues. “Besides, I’m the one that picked you up, it wouldn’t make sense to switch. And this is  _ my  _ car, Yellow and I have a special bond.”

 

“But you and I have a special bond too,” Lance argues. “Doesn’t that bond extend to-”

 

“Nope,” Hunk interrupts. “You destroyed any chance you had of forming a bond with Yellow when you made me go to your sister’s school’s carnival.”

 

Lance barks a laugh. “ _ You’re _ the one that threw up, Hunk.”

 

“ _ Anyways _ ,” Hunk says, “I invited you, therefore you’re my guest,  _ therefore _ , I should be driving you.”

 

“What a gentleman,” Lance comments, “a true man among men. Shay-”

 

“ _ Lance _ ,” Hunk whines, “Shay and I-”

 

“Aren’t a thing”, they finish unanimously.

 

“Deny it all you want, buddy, but wasn’t that the place back there?”

 

Hunk swears before hurriedly turning into the next complex, having to make a full circle around the building before waiting to make a left turn. 

 

Lance grins, and grins even wider when Hunk frowns. 

 

“You distracted me,” Hunk says, accusingly.

 

“No, man,” Lance says, “the thought of your  _ girlfriend- _ ”

 

Hunk groans as Lance continues to tease him, focused on finding the restaurant.

 

They’re comfortably silent as the car pulls up in front of the building. As he opens the passenger door and steps out, Lance calls Hunk over the roof of the car.

 

“Yeah?” Hunk responds. 

 

“Ready to kick ass?”

 

Hunk laughs. “We’re not here to kick ass, Lance. We’re here to learn.”

 

“We’re here to learn how to kick ass.” Lance concludes.

 

“ _ No _ ,” Hunk scolds. “No kicking ass, no scaring girls with your bad flirting, no singing…”

 

“I didn’t see  _ any  _ of these restrictions on that flyer you showed me.” 

 

“That’s because they just,  _ expect  _ you not to.”

 

“Trust me, Hunk,” Lance assures. “They’re gonna take one look at me and just  _ know  _ I was destined to kick all of their asses. Besides,” he says, swinging an arm over Hunk’s shoulder, “no flirting with girls, I’m here for  _ you _ . Bros before hoes, that’s what I always say.”

 

Hunk snorts. “You  _ never- _ ”

 

“ _ Hey _ , shouldn’t we head in? It’s two minutes to eight.”

 

“Really?” Hunk asks. “Dude, we need to hurry.”

 

The two boys head inside the restaurant, looking around the area for a minute before Hunk spots a sign near a staircase. “Hey Lance, I think the class is downstairs!”

 

“Cool,” Lance says, hopping onto the railing. “Let’s go!”

 

Lance quickly finds himself in the basement of Altean Pizza that he didn't know existed, Hunk clambering down the stairs after him. They both take a second to admire the large room, eyeing the ten stations set up with large lights hanging over each one. 

 

Each counter has a stove section, and an oven underneath. Some were taken already, but there’re a couple free ones in the back that he and Hunk could take over.

 

"Hey Hunk,” Lance calls, nudging Hunk’s shoulder, “where do you want to be?"

 

His question goes unanswered, and he tries to follow Hunk's line of vision until he pinpoints a girl in a yellow sundress standing at one of the stations near the front of the room.

 

Lance gasps, nudging Hunk harder. “Is that  _ Shay _ ?”

 

"Oh gosh, Lance..." Hunk whines, tugging on his sleeve. "She's so cute."

 

"I think she's alone,” Lance says, “you should go with her."

 

Hunk raises his eyebrows. "What about you? What happened to bros over hoes?"

 

“Buddy,” Lance says. “I’ve met Shay. She’s  _ not  _ a hoe. So it doesn’t count”

 

"What if I mess up in front of her and embarrass myself or something?" Hunk says worriedly, still tugging on Lance’s shirt. "I bet she's like, a kitchen  _ goddess  _ or something."

 

Lance removes Hunk's hand from his sleeve and smoothes out the fabric. "Hunk, she's not going to be a cooking goddess. If she's taking this class, she wants to improve. A real goddess wouldn't need to improve."

 

Hunk looks at Lance uneasily before sighing in defeat. "Okay, fine. But only because you seem so eager to get rid of me."

 

"I'm eager to see what comes out of this," Lance said with a smile. "Now shoo!"

 

Lance watches Hunk make his way over to the front of the room, smiling like a proud parent sending their kid off on their first day of school. He looks around the room, the stations are gradually starting to fill in since almost everyone is already coming with a partner.

 

Lance is starting to regret his recent decisions when he spots a girl standing behind an empty station in the fourth row.

 

She isn't facing him, so all he can see is puffy black shoulder length hair, pale skin exposed through theーpretty excessive amount of, honestlyーrips in her black jeans, and a nice ass.

 

Lance grins to himself giddily and practically skips to the empty space beside her. He practices his signature finger guns a few times to himself before clearing his throat awkwardly.

 

"Excuse me cutie, do you have a partner? Class and-or relationship wise?"

 

_ ‘Fucking nailed it’ _ , he thinks,  _ ‘now give her that million dollar smile an- _ ’

 

_ ‘That's a dude!’  _ He screams internally.

_ ‘A really pretty dude,’ _ his mind adds thoughtfully.

Pretty dude stares at him, unimpressed. "No, and I don't want and-or  _ need _ one."

Someone nearby is laughing, probably at him, but he can barely hear it over how loud his heart is beating.

The boy has pale skin, which looks even smoother than the granite counter next to him. Fluffy, black hair that was most definitely a mullet, but  _ damn  _ does it look good on him. Thick eyebrows, high cheekbones, sharp jawline, and he doesn't know if it's just the lighting but his narrow eyes look purple.

Lance should be thinking about what to say next, how to get himself out of this totally awkward situation, but the only thing he's thinking about is how  _ attractive  _ this guy is.

Pretty boy looks at him expectantly, but Lance doesn't know what to say. He opens his mouth anyways and prays something intelligent will come out.

"I-"

His very witty response is cut off by the instructor clapping his hands at the front of the room.

Lance looks up with a start, and he's almost blinded—even from the fourth row—by bright orange hair. Head hair, and mustache hair.

"Good evening young, aspiring chefs! My name is Coran, and I'll be assisting you through your journey through the kitchen. Over the next six weeks, you'll be expanding your cooking experience beyond microwaveable dinners and Skip the Dishes!"

Lance makes eye contact with Hunk ーwho’s all the way  in the first row on the right side ー and they both giggle silently at the strong British accent.

"I see everyone's already at a station, but you might not know the person beside you! I'll give you a few minutes to introduce yourselves."

 

_ ‘Oh no,’  _ Lance cries internally. _ ‘If he doesn't hate me already, he's definitely gonna hate me after getting to know me. Maybe I shou-’ _

 

"-Keith."

 

Lance blinks. "Sorry, what?"

 

'Keith' looks like he's physically trying not to roll his eyes. "My name, it's Keith."

 

"Oh," Lance saysーstupidly, in his opinionーbefore quickly wiping his slightly sweaty hand on his jeans. "I'm Lance."

 

Lance reaches his hand out, and the fear that was growing in his throat lessens a little bit when Keith shakes it.

 

Keith’s hand feels a little rough, and Lance takes pride in the fact that not everything about this guy is literally perfect. Although he can't say this for certain because he's not sure if it's Keith's exposed fingers that are rough or the  _ goddamn fingerless gloves _ .

 

The air around them becomes slightly less awkward. "I'm sorry about-"

 

"Don't worry about it," Keith says dismissively, shoving his hand back in the front pocket of his hoodie. "I don't hate you or anything."

 

Lance sighs in relief, only to hear Keith add a pointed " _ yet _ ."

 

" _ Keith _ ."

 

Lance looks up to see the couple at the station in front of them facing them.

 

The tall, muscular man definitely looks like he's old enough to be finished with school. Short black hair with bright white bangs that brush his forehead. As Lance gazes down at his crossed arms he's surprised by the metal prosthetic in place of his right arm, and when he looks back at his face he instantly has a dozen questions about the scar across the bridge of his nose.

 

The woman beside him is downright  _ gorgeous _ . Her skin is even darker than his, and her long white hair makes it look even darker. Under regular circumstances, he would have probably tried flirting with her—but honestly, he's still recovering from Keith.

 

Said boy crosses his arms to mirror the man in front of them. Lance fails to keep a small smile off his face while watching Keith square his shoulders and tilt his head up, trying to act tough. 

 

_ ‘Cute,’   _ Lance thinks.

 

"What?" Keith asks, but it sounds more like a statement than a question.

 

The tall man narrows his eyes at him. "Be nice." He turns to Lance, "Sorry about my brother. He's bratty because we didn't get him ice cream on the way here."

 

"Takashi!" Keith hisses.

 

Lance laughs, "You like ice cream? Me too, man!"

 

The man— _ Takashi _ —grins. "That's cool. Get it? Cool? Because it's ice cream?"

 

"Shiro," the women next to him grabs his arm softly. "You're supposed to be embarrassing Keith, not yourself."

 

Lance and Keith both laugh at this, and Shiro's face turns a little red.

 

Before anyone else speaks, Lance looks at Shiro and asks "What's your name? Keith called you Tak..ashi, but she called you Shiro."

 

"Takashi Shirogane." Says Takashi Shirogane, extending his metal arm to Lance. "Most people just call me Shiro, Keith only calls me  _ 'Takashi' _ when he pretends to hate me."

 

Keith's quiet "not pretending" goes ignored as Lance hesitantly reaches out to grab Shiro's prosthetic, gulping at the tight grip on his hand. When they release hands, he notices the light haired girl holding her hand out to him as well.

 

"I'm Allura," she says in a British accent strikingly similar to Coran's. "Shiro's friend."

 

“ _ Best _ friend,” Shiro specifies. 

 

“ _ Only _ friend,” Keith elaborates, earning a shove in the shoulder from Shiro. 

 

"It's nice to meet you," Lance says politely, grabbing her hand at the same moment Coran starts talking again.

 

"For today, since this might be the first time some of you are even  _ considering  _ cooking something," Coran says, reaching underneath his counter and pulling out multiple stacks of cards, "we'll start off with getting to know common cooking utensils and appliances!" 

 

He steps around his station and makes his way around the room, dropping a stack of cards at each table while explaining. "The top drawer on the right should be filled with tools. Just lay them out on the counter in front of you and put the card with its name beside it!." Coran makes his way back to the front, hands on his hips. "It's quite simple, really. Well, depending on your previous kitchen experience." He claps his hands again, "Let's get started, shall we? Chop chop!"

 

Since Keith is the one closest to the drawer, he opens it and paws around until suddenly he's dropping a metal spatula on the countertop, making Lance jump.

 

"Sorry." he apologizes quietly, reaching past Lance to sift through the pile of cards.

 

_ ‘Okay,’  _ Lance thinks. _ ‘This is super awkward. But am I going to let this situation out-awkward me? Not a chance.’ _

 

“I...um,” Lance says timidly. “Did you know that ‘thot’ is actually an acronym?”

 

Keith turns, his face a mixture of disbelief and amusement— _ ’score!’ _ . “I’m sorry, what?”

 

Lance chuckles nervously. “Yeah, it’s something like ‘that hoe over there’, I mean I could be wrong but wow...”

 

Luckily for him, the last part of the sentence goes unheard because Keith can’t seem to get a grip. He’s giggling like crazy, clutching the cards tightly. Lance watches as he stops for a moment and clutches his stomach when the laughing returns in full force. 

 

Lance wishes he was wearing his Spectacles or that he was invisible or  _ something  _ so he could take a picture of Keith right now—the way his eyes are fighting to stay open, the red blush on his face, that beautiful smile—because whipping out his phone and snapping a pic with Keith seeing him would be kind of weird.

 

The sight metaphorically punches him in the gut, and suddenly he’s the one trying to breathe properly.

 

He looks up to see Shiro watching Keith with a fond look on his face. He nudges Allura, and Lance can hear her let out a short laugh upon seeing Keith.

 

When he accidentally makes eye contact with Shiro, the older man full out grins at him.

 

“I’m sorry,” Keith says breathlessly, and when Lance turns back to him. he's almost disappointed to see that Keith's face in a more calm expression

 

But, his smile is still there and is just as amazing as it was five seconds ago.

 

“You just-that came out of  _ nowhere _ .” Keith breathes. He continues through the pile of cards until he finds the 'spatula' one and places it beside the utensil.

 

"I was just trying to make conversation." Lance explains, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "Sorry if that was weird or something."

 

Keith goes back to rummaging through the drawer. "It was weird. Weird's good though, it's funny."

 

“'Weird's good”, Lance repeats quietly to himself. If someone had told fifth grade Lance that—someone other than his mother because mothers  _ have  _ to say that—he might've not eaten lunch alone in the library every day.

 

Lance shuffles through the cards and finds the tongs one near the bottom of the stack. "Okay, one down and many more to go."

 

…

 

When the small apple shaped clock at the front of the room shows Lance that it's four minutes to nine, Coran sends them off, reassuring them that he'll tidy up the stations.

 

The other pairs are starting to leave, but Hunk is still talking to Shay so Lance keeps hovering around his station.

 

Keith hovers with him though. Lance can hear Shiro and Allura having an argument over whether water is wet or not so he doubts that Keith is rushing to join them.

 

"I can't believe we got almost all of them wrong." He tells Keith, leaning back against the counter.

 

Keith shifts his weight to his other foot. "Well I don't know about you, but I didn't expect much better from myself."

 

Lance snorts, and slowly makes his way towards the stairs. “So...you’ll come back next week, yeah? So you can improve?”

 

“Yeah, I had fun.” Keith admits. “You’re not as bad as I thought you were gonna be.”

 

Once they reach the staircase, Lance grins and sweeps his arm forward, letting Keith climb first.

 

_ ‘Not to look at his ass _ ,’ he tells himself sternly,  _ ‘just to be polite.’ _

 

Keith nods in thanks and he starts to climb.

 

“How bad did you think I was going to be?” Lance asks inquisitively. 

 

“I thought you were going to be one of those douchey, flirty guys.” Keith admits. “You used a pick-up line on me before you even saw my face, and I’ll bet you twenty bucks you don’t even  _ read  _ Thrasher. “

Lance looks at his Thrasher sweatshirt and makes eye contact with Keith, sheepishly. “I don’t have my wallet.” 

 

Keith laughs, “You're going to come back, right?”

 

Lance scoffs. "Like I have anywhere better to be on Wednesday nights from seven to nine."

 

Keith barks a laugh. "I'm sure you don't."

 

Lance gasps, climbing up the stairs after Keith "I hope you realize that was sarcasm."

 

Keith—halfway up the stairs—turns around, smirking. “Was it?”

 

Lance, who is feeling  _ absolutely attacked right now _ , calls for backup. "Hunk!"

 

Hunk—who was just at the front of the room—quickly appears at the bottom of the steps “Lance? Are you okay?”

 

Lance continues. "Keith is questioning my social life!"

 

Hunk scans the situation before speaking. "Lance, don't yell like that. I thought you fell down the stairs or something."

 

"Well I'm still standing!" Lance confirms. "Describe a typical Wednesday evening for me.”

 

Hunk shrugs. "Well, I usually go to Lance’s house after school with our friend, Pidge, and we work on homework for a couple of hours. Then I, or sometimes Lance’s mom cooks dinner while Lance attempts to bet Pidge in some video game. We eat, and eating doesn't take long cause we're always starving after a long day, you know? Lance usually falls asleep after dinner so I drop Pidge off at her house and go home to do something quiet like reading-"

 

"Hunk," Lance whines. He turns to Keith and is slightly pleased to see Keith smiling in amusement. "I don't fall asleep, okay? I just wait a little so Hunk thinks I'm sleeping so I can sneak out and do cool stuff without him there to force me to  _ ‘think about what I’m doing.’ _ ”

 

"Lance, you do  _ not  _ sneak out." Hunk says, laughing. He pulls out his phone. "If you're  _ planning  _ to, though, it’s my duty as your best friend to inform your mom of the situation an-"

 

"Don't even think about it Hunk, she believes  _ everything  _ you say." Lance hugs himself. "She'll be  after me with la chancla."

"La changla?" Keith asks, butchering the pronunciation but making up for it with an extremely endearing head tilt. "What's that?"

 

Lance moves up the stairs and Keith does too. "Every Hispanic child's worst nightmare."

 

Keith opens his mouth to say something—probably to question Lance's explanation—but is interrupted by Hunk's introduction of Shay.

 

"Lance, you already know Shay, right?” After seeing Lance nod, he turns to Keith. “Keith-that's what Lance called you right?" After getting another nod from both of them he continues. "This is Shay.”

 

Lance grins. Shay's cute. She's the same height as him, which he doesn't see very often with girls. Big, brown eyes that he  _ knows  _ made Hunk melt at some point this evening. She has these broad shoulders and strong looking arms that almost rival Hunks. She has a pixie cut, and while he usually isn't a fan of those, the more Lance looks at it the most it seems to suit Shay.

 

It seems like 'bad hairstyles' are just proving themselves today.

 

"Hey Shay!" Lance says, extending his arm.

 

Shay takes it, and uses her hold on him to pull him into a hug. "It's nice to see you again, Lance. Although I feel like I’m pretty up-to-date on all of your latest shenanigans, Hunk talks about you a lot."

 

"Of course he did," Lance boasts while slinging an arm over Hunk's shoulders. "I'm his  _ world _ ."

 

The four of them laugh, and Shay turns to Keith. "Hunk didn't mention you, but I figure you just met tonight, right?"

 

"Yeah," says Keith. A moment passes before he reaches an arm out as well, and Shay beams as she grabs his hand.

 

Lance must be watching him with a Look on his face because when Hunk nudges him he's wiggling his eyebrows.

 

Bless Shiro, who chooses this very moment to show up. He uses his left hand—the real one, Lance notes—to ruffle Keith's hair. "Ready to go, kiddo?"

 

"Don't call me that", Keith says threateningly. The small smile on his face ruins the effect—and Lance's heart—though.

 

Shiro turns to Lance. "Thanks for looking after Keith. I was worried he was going to burn himself or something."

 

"We weren't even doing any actual cooking, Shiro." Keith reminds him, his face slightly red.

"You would've found a way." He reaches into his pocket. "Common, let's hit the road."

 

"Isn't Allura going with you?" Lance asks.

 

"Nah," says Keith. "Coran will drop her home."

 

"Coran's her uncle." Shiro explains. "They live in the same apartment building, too."

 

"Oh, that's cool." Lance smiles. "I guess I better go."

 

Shiro nods, "We'll see you next week, then." He puts a hand on Keith's shoulder before heading to the parking lot.

 

Keith looks back over his shoulder at Lance and waves. "See you!"

 

"Bye!" Lance shouts, and he turns to see Hunk standing a little far back with a knowing look on his face.

 

"So..." He starts as Lance comes up beside him. "You like him or something? I didn't know you liked guys, Lance."

 

Lance thinks about the last two hours. And while he can't remember the names of all the cooking utensils they sorted, he clearly remembers Keith's purple eyes, his cute laugh, the stupid black fingerless gloves…

 

"Neither did I, buddy. Let's go home, I need to sleep on it."


	2. Getting to Know Your Partner/Future Boyfriend 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith talk and cook at the same time. What gems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my goodness the amount of postive feedback I received from the first chapter was incredible I LOVE YOU GUYS <3
> 
> honestly this thing should be considered crack cause I think it's so bad but thanks for convincing me that this fic might not be as bad as I think it is!!

A week later, Lance finds himself waiting eagerly alongside Keith at the same station they used last week. He’s tempted to ask Keith if he would be okay with moving to the station behind Hunk and Shay’s, but figures that Keith would be more comfortable near his brother.

 

Coran informs them to get ready and that the class will start in five minutes. Lance, who’s totally ready to get ready, turns to Keith. 

 

"Okay, if we want this relationship to work there's going to have to be some ground rules."

 

Keith makes a face. "What are you talking about?"

 

"This!" Lance gestures at the space between them. "First off, you're going to have to lose the gloves."

 

The shorter boy clenches his fists before bringing them towards his chest protectively. "No."

 

"Come on, Keith. Just for the two hours."

 

"No. What if they get lost?"

 

Lance points to the counter. "Leave them at the end of the counter, or something." 

 

"They'll get dirty."

 

"They'll get the food dirty."

 

Keith opens his mouth to make another argument before he's interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. 

 

"Keith, he’s right." Shiro says, rolling his eyes at the glare Keith sends his way. "Allura will put them in her purse, you can't seriously cook while wearing those."

 

The amount of dad in Shiro's tone makes  _ Lance _ want to give Shiro his gloves—the ones that don't even exist. And Keith must feel the same because he peels the gloves off and drops them into Shiro's waiting hand without another word. Shiro nods and heads back to his table. 

 

Lance watches as Keith fiddles with his newly uncovered hands before crossing his arms altogether. Lance must look kind of guilty, because even though Keith's pout is still there he softly bumps Lance's shoulder with his own as they watch Coran try to get the class's attention.

 

"Good evening class! I know you all are eager to get to the actual cooking, so I'll make this introduction brief. Today, we're making calzones, which are essentially pizzas folded in half." Coran gestures around the room. "Just for today, to make things easier for you newer chefs, I've pre-measured most of the ingredients for you. There are extras on the counters along the walls in case you have a spill of some sort, but hopefully that doesn't happen! I'll be going through the steps with you, but if you fall slightly behind give me a shout and I'll slow right down for you. Or, you can refer to the printouts of the recipe on your counters. Sound good?" 

 

The class nods their heads and Coran grins, pulling on his mustache. "Very well then, first things first it to wash up! Go on!"

 

Lance and Keith both head to a sink near the back. Lance smirks, "Aren't you glad the gloves aren't in your way, now?"

 

Keith doesn't seem to be listening though, Lance barks a laugh at the weird look on Keith's face as he rubs soap over his hands. 

 

Keith dries his hands on the towel hanging off the edge of the sink. "Man, that felt weird without the gloves."

 

Lance gaps at him. "You mean you wash your hands while wearing your stupid gloves?"

 

"Yeah," Keith says like it's the most obvious thing to do. "How else are the gloves going to get clean?"

 

_ ‘Who the fuck is this guy?’ _

 

“I’m  _ kidding _ ,” Keith assures him. 

 

Lance silently trails behind Keith on their way back to their station. Once they're standing behind the counter, Keith opens a couple of cabinets and puts a large bowl in front of them. When Lance raises an eyebrow at this, Keith shrugs and gives him a "Coran did it."

 

Coran silences the class by hitting his bowl in front of him with a wooden spoon. "Alright, class. Let's start by mixing the yeast and sugar in a bowl. Then add four tablespoons of water, and leave it on the side counter."

 

Lance looks at the ingredients in front of him and carefully pulls the glass bowls of yeast and sugar closer before dumping them in the empty bowl. "Hey Keith, want to do the water?"

 

"Okay." Keith says, grabbing the mason jar filled with water. He stares at it for a moment before opening the drawer of cooking utensils. Keith turns to Lance, "Which one is a tablespoon?" 

 

Lance shrugs, he cups his hands over his mouth and shouts in Hunk's general direction. "Hunk! Which one's the tablespoon?"

 

He squints as Hunk turns towards him and waves a small spoon in the air. 

 

_ ‘That's really freaking helpful.’ _

 

"So it's a spoon." He tells Keith, and Keith gestures for him to keep going. "It looks small, but that might be since I saw it from a distance."

 

"True," Keith says, and goes through the drawer before producing a serving spoon. "Like this?"

 

"I mean, it could be," Lance says, analyzing the spoon. "Like tablespoon could mean it's big, like a table."

 

"What about a coffee table?" Keith counters. "Or an end table?"

 

"Those must be considered big in the spoon worl- _ oh _ ."

 

Lance trails off as he catches Allura using a regular sized spoon to add water to their flour and sugar. He moves around Keith and takes the same spoon from the drawer, "This is what the others are using."

 

Keith narrows his eyes at the object in Lance's hand. "That's stupid. Where does the  _ table _ idea come from, then?"

 

"Who cares?" Lance says, pushing the spoon into Keith's hand.

 

At the front of the room, Coran starts to explain the next step. 

 

"Make a small depression in the center," He says, pressing his fingers into the flour, "and add the oil, yeast, and the rest of the water. Mix it, and when it becomes all doughy sprinkle some flour on the counter and knead the dough."

 

Lance hums as he spreads flour over the countertop, watching Keith out of the corner of his eye as he pours the liquid ingredients into the bowl.

 

Lance looks at his hands and grins. "Hey look, I'm as pale as you!" he tells Keith, holding out his hands.

 

"Wow, that’s so cool," Keith breathes, and grabs Lance's hands to bring them between their faces. Lance opens his mouth is to question Keith's actions, but the words don't make it out before Keith blows forcefully, majority of the flour going into his mouth and eyes.

 

"Gah!" Lance yells, rubbing his eyes while coughing simultaneously. Keith's laugh doesn't even affect him this time because his throat feels so dry and  _ chalky. _

Lance moves his hands away from his eyes to see Keith returning—he had no idea he'd left—with the mason jar filled with water. 

 

"Sorry," Keith apologizes quietly. "I saw an opportunity, so I took it." He scoops the dough from the bowl with his hands and places it on the counter while Lance gulps down water like there's no tomorrow. 

 

Lance watches Keith's arms knead the dough with only a  _ few _ slightly inappropriate thoughts. He guesses the sweater Keith wore last week was too big to see anything, but this week that black t-shirt is doing  _ wonders _ for-

 

"Okay class!" Coran shouts. "Put the dough back in the bowl and cover it with some of the plastic wrap I've left for you on your counter."

 

Lance holds up the clear, thin plastic in question and beams when Coran nods. 

 

"That's the one! We're going to let it rise for about twenty minutes or so, so feel free to mingle while we wait!"

 

Keith picks up the dough with both hands and Lance reaches in to cover it with the plastic wrap. He looks at the countertop before hopping onto a space that isn't covered in flour. 

 

"So,” Lance starts, “why are you taking this class?"

 

Keith shrugs. "Shiro said he'd find a way to cancel my credit card if I kept buying instant ramen and Poptarts."

 

Lance laughs. "Instant ramen and Poptarts?"

 

"Yeah," Keith says. "I try to alternate flavours and stuff to, you know, switch it up every once in a while."

 

"So like, you don't eat anything else?"

 

"Nah. I can't cook, which is why Shiro made me take this class with him and Allura. And everything else is too complicated."

 

Lance thinks. "Frozen chicken nuggets?"

 

"I'm not allowed to use the oven in the communal kitchen. During my first year I tried one of those frozen dinners that you put in the oven, but I forgot to take the cardboard out and...yeah."

 

"Okay," Lance says. "How about soup?"

"I hate soup."

 

"What? Aren't instant noodles kind of like soup?"

 

"Not if you drain them." 

 

Lance is about to go off on how completely  _ wrong _ that is when Hunk shows up beside him. 

 

Throwing an arm around him, Lance grins, "Hunk, my  _ man _ , how's it hanging?"

 

Hunk's eyes literally shine with excitement. "Lance this is so cool. I  _ love _ calzones.”

 

"I’ve never had one," Lance shrugs. "How's Shay?"

 

After the last class, Hunk had gushed to Lance about how awesomely sweet Shay was. Lance—who’s usually the one to get crushes—was absolutely ecstatic that his very best friend in the whole world  _ finally _ had a crush on someone. So, of course, the merciless teasing had commenced. 

 

Unfortunately for Hunk. 

 

"What? I-no, Lance! It's...not like that!"

 

Lance smirks. "Not like what?"

 

Hunk groans, and he turns to Keith. "Hey Keith. Does he tease you too? Because I feel you."

 

Keith scoffs. "Nah, he's been okay."

 

" _ Okay? _ " Lance questions. "I've been an  _ angel! _ "    
  


"It's okay, Lance." Says a new voice. Shiro. "He's just trying to act cool. When we go to the together he always ditches me to go hang around HotTopic and-."

 

"You shop at  _ HotTopic _ ?" Lance yells, whirling on Keith. "I freaking  _ called it _ ."

 

Keith rolls his eyes and Hunk laughs. "He did, right after we got home. I can vouch for him."

 

Just as Lance is about to praise Hunk for his loyalty, the smirk on Keith's face tells him he's just been sold out. "You talked about me after you got home?"

 

Yes, Lance did talk about Keith when they got home—after Hunk told him about Shay, of course. He'd just wanted to figure out what all those feelings he felt were. What if he was like, allergic to Keith or something?

 

"That's normal!" Lance argued. "Hunk talked about Shay!"

 

"Yeah, because Hunk likes Shay." Keith countered. 

 

_ ‘Dammit.’ _ Lance thinks.  _ ‘Coincidence? I think not.’  _

 

Hunk looks at them thoughtfully. "You two argue like an-"

 

"Old married couple." Shay finishes perfectly, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. "What are you guys talking about?"

 

"Well," Keith says, "Apparently Lance was talking about  _ me _ ..."

 

"Keith, you talked about Lance too."

 

Lance's whips his head around to face Shiro while Keith groans. "Tell me  _ everything _ ," he demands.

 

"Can't." Shiro shrugs innocently. "That's breaking the bro code."

 

"You broke the bro code ages ago," says Keith, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "But thanks."

 

...

 

Lance, unsurprisingly, finds himself getting along with his classmates and genuinely enjoying their company. They're all laughing ten minutes later when Coran manages to gain their attention again.  

 

"Alright everybody. The dough should be rested enough, so it's time to continue! Divide the dough in two, and use one of the larger pans in one of the cabinets and press them both out into circles. Remember to grease the pan, first!"

 

Everybody leaves their station, and Lance crouches down in search of a large pan. When he places the tray on the counter Keith immediately drops two blobs of dough onto the pan and starts flatting one out before moving on to the second. 

 

Keith, still focused on spreading out the dough, speaks. "I never really got to ask, why'd you join this class?"

 

"Oh." Lance smiles. "Hunk loves to cook, so he asked me to sign up with him so we could partner up and stuff. But as soon as we got here he laid eyes on Shay and boom, he was gone."

 

Keith hums, and he flinches when Coran suddenly reaches in between them to deposit a tray of toppings on their counter. "Pardon my reach, boys. Oh, is there anything you two are allergic to?"

 

Lance and Keith share a look before giving Coran a simple "No."

 

"Great! You can start putting the toppings of your choice on one side of the circle. Then wet the edges, and fold the dough over. Don't forget to press the edges together!"

 

Lance salutes him, and after Coran leaves with a laugh, Lance sees Shiro call Keith over his shoulder. "Keith, you shouldn't be eating cheese." 

 

"Why not?" asks Lance.

 

"He's lactose intolerant," Shiro replies.

 

"Living freely intolerant, too," Keith says. "Let me  _ live _ , Shiro."

 

"I  _ am _ , Keith. You can't live if you die from anaphylaxis."

 

"Whatever," Keith sighs, eyeing the various cheeses Coran brought them. 

 

"Keith," Shiro says in a warning tone.

 

"Keith," Lance reaches out to move the cheese out of Keith's reach. "Maybe you should listen-"

 

"Don't tell me what to do." Keith says while grabbing a handful of shredded mozzarella. He shoves it in his mouth, letting out an exaggerated moan that makes Shiro pinch the bridge of his nose and Lance choke on his own saliva. 

 

Like the good person he is, Lance takes majority of the cheese so Keith isn't tempted to take it for himself. He adds a little bit of everything; sausage, pepperoni, green peppers, mushrooms, olives. Lance arranges them perfectly, making sure each ingredient is spread thoroughly and finds himself having to stretch the dough fairly thin to even fold it over. 

 

When he looks over at Keith's, he's suspiciously already done. Comforted with the fact he took most of the cheese, Lance pops the tray into the oven underneath without asking any questions. 

 

This time, they all move to Shiro and Allura's station to talk after Keith sneaks over to eat their leftover cheese. The calzones are ready in fifteen minutes, and Lance watches with a frown as the other people around them are able to slide theirs off the tray and onto a plate easily. Unlike theirs.

 

"Keith, did we grease the pan?"

 

"No."

 

"Ah."

 

Lance shrugs, Good enough for our first time.

 

He accepts the fork Keith holds out to him and they both dig into their calzones. Lance smiles unknowingly,  _ ‘it doesn't taste that bad. In fact, it's good!’ _

 

Wondering what Keith thinks, he turns to find the other boy trying to sever the multiple strands of cheese that connect the piece on his fork to the rest of the food. 

 

"What the fuck?" Lance asks, leaning closer to look at Keith's calzone. "Where'd you get all this cheese?"

 

"Coran brought over some more when he saw that you took most of it." Keith says, twirling the strands of cheese on his fork. 

 

_ ‘Great,’ _ Lance thinks, _ ‘Coran probably thinks I'm some sort of cheese addict.’ _

 

They laugh as they eat, bickering playfully about who forgot to grease the pan. And about how Keith didn't put a single vegetable in his calzone.

 

"I don't like them." Keith says, making a face. "They taste like crap."

 

"And you'd know, because...?" Lance snorts at Keith's deadpan expression. "Keith, you can't just not eat them because they're yucky."

 

"Yucky? What are you, six?"

 

Lance shoots him his finger guns. "On a scale of one to five? Yes!"

 

"You’re so lame." Keith groans, giving Lance a shove. 

 

"It's true though, right?"

 

Lance immediately blushes because he did  _ not _ plan on saying that out loud, and the blush gets redder as Keith looks him up and down before simply shrugging and walking over to Shiro. 

He's still standing there when Hunk comes to get him. "You doing alright there, Lance?"

 

"I don't know." Lance replies. 

 

Hunk laughs, giving Lance a pat on the back. "What happened?"

 

"I don't  _ know _ ."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> criticism/suggestions are very much accepted! <3 <3


	3. Awoken Bi a Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who’s that Pokemon?
> 
> It’s Pidge!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long break! Exams were a bitch and I didn’t even want to /think/ for the past week. It’s short, but it’s here!!

When Pidge invites him to come over on Saturday, Lance is grateful for a change of scenery. 

 

Everything in his house reminds him of Keith, because he literally thinks of Keith  _ all _ the time. 

 

For example, his toothbrush reminds him of food in his teeth, which gets him thinking about food in general. You have to cook food, then Lance starts thinking of cooking class and the best thing about cooking class; Keith.

 

So it's not an exaggeration, he knows that for sure. Because the same thing happens with the toaster, spoon, and his sneakers (because he has to wear shoes to leave the house, and sometimes when he leaves the house it's to go to cooking class, and cooking class is where he sees Keith).

 

_ ‘This is so freaking unhealthy,’ _ Lance thinks, leaning back into the beanbag chair in Pidge’s bedroom. ‘ _ I barely know him. _ ’ 

 

Now the next time he comes over, this chair is going to remind him of Keith too because this is the chair he sat in while thinking about Keith as he lost to Pidge in Mario Kart.

 

He scowls at the girl in the beanbag beside him. "You choose DK Summit on purpose. You  _ know _ I always get stuck driving over the bumpy part."

 

"I know you're not good at this  _ game _ ." Pidge corrects, grinning. "We're doing Yoshi Falls, to match my boy."

 

Lance hums. "You're always Yoshi."

 

"And I always win."

 

He ignores her in favor of reminding himself to stick on the upper level, don't try to go through the rapids.

 

The race starts, and Lance is already in fourth place as they near the first bridge, and he maintains his place until the second lap. 

 

Lance shrieks as a green shell sent by Pidge collides with his kart, giving Pidge—and two other racers—enough time to pass him. He checks her side of the screen and throws a fit when he sees that she's in first.

 

"You know what you and Yoshi have in common? You're both not human, wear weird shoes, and are both little  _ shits _ ."

 

"Eat my fucking carbon emissions, Lance!" Pidge yells as she starts her third lap.

Desperate times come for desperate measures, Lance thinks, merging into the lower half of the course. He makes it through the first two rapids but he accidentally falls off the third.

 

He holds the ‘2’ button down as Lakitu fishes him out of the water and deposits him back onto the higher track level. Lance crosses the finish line unenthusiastically, trying to tune out Pidge’s cheers of victory.

 

“Come on, Lance.” says Pidge, moving towards the doorway. “I’ll pity you and make you some Kraft Dinner.”

 

Despite being sour about the loss—or loss _ es _ , the promise of macaroni covered in processed cheese brings a smile to his face. “Alright!”

 

He takes a seat at the Holt’s kitchen table and tries not to look around because he  _ knows _ that literally everything in this room will remind him of Keith. Lance pulls out his phone, scrolling through his unread messages as a distraction while Pidge puts a pot on the stove and dumps the contents of a familiar blue box into it.

 

So," Pidge starts, grabbing bowls from one of the cabinets. "Hunk came over a couple days ago, said you guys are taking cooking classes."

 

"Yeah, we are," says Lance. "It's pretty fun. You should join."

 

“That's a nice suggestion," Pidge comments, stirring the pasta. “But I’m not joining a class two weeks late. Besides, I can easily build a robot that will cook  _ for _ me.”

 

“But don’t you want the  _ security _ in knowing that when your robot goes rogue—along with the zombies—and tries to destroy humanity, you can still make yourself a nutritious-”

 

“No.”

 

"You know though, no matter what cooking skills you acquire, no girl is going to put up with your  _ the apocalypse is coming  _ bullshit."

 

“Hush up,” Lance mumbles, much to Pidge’s amusement.

 

She laughs. “I feel bad for Hunk. Did he have to teach you what a knife was?”

 

“ _ No _ .” Lance says defensively. “I know what a  _ knife _ is. And besides, Hunk isn’t my partner.”

 

He’s met with a look of confusion, so he quickly elaborates. “Shay’s in our class as well and she didn’t have a partner, so I made him go with her.”

 

Pidge stirs the pot again, “So you’re alone?”

 

“Nah, I’m with this other dude.”

 

“Who?”

 

“You probably don’t know him,” Lance says, “he’s pretty cool.”

 

“Are you implying that I don’t know any cool people?” Pidge asks. “Do I need to remind you that I’m friends with  _ the _ Hunk Garret? Or point out that you’re just insulting yourself because I  _ will _ agree with that-”

 

He realizes, now, that Pidge won’t hesitate to slap the cold hard truth into him if he really is in way over his head. That Pidge can save him from his dumb feelings if she thinks he’s being stupid.

 

“I like him.” Lance blurts out. “I like him, a lot. Like not just like him, like,  _ like _ like him.”

 

“Oh geez,” Pidge groans, “you can’t go  _ anywhere _ without falling in love, can’t you?”

 

“ _ Pidge _ ,” he whines. “This has never happened before.”

 

His friend makes a face. “Uh, yes it has. Remember a couple weeks ago we went to-“

 

“No, I mean,” Lance interrupts, “it’s never happened with a  _ guy _ before.”

 

“Ah,” Pidge says, pausing to tear open the foil packet of powdered cheese with her teeth. “You’re finally waking up.” At Lance’s silent confusion, she continues. “You’re having your awakening.”

 

“I’m just confused,” Lance admits. “I never thought I’d be gay.”

 

Pidge eyes him tiredly from the stove. "You know, liking a guy doesn’t mean you’re gay. You can like girls and guys. Bisexual's a thing."

 

"But I don't like guy _ s _ ." Lance reminds her as she divides the food into two bowls. "I like  _ a _ guy. Keith's the only guy I've ever been attracted to. I was up all night looking up 'hot guys' to test my reactions, but I didn’t  _ feel _ anything.”

 

"You've got too much spare time, Lance." Pidge says, placing a large portion of the macaroni in front of him. She moves to sit across from him, and immediately starts shoving the food in her mouth. 

 

"Not spare time. Valuable beauty sleep, wasted. 'Hot guys' my ass, trust me, Keith is a million times better looking than Justin Bei-"

 

"I'm going to stop you right there before the girls next door break in here to beat your ass." Pidge says, cutting Lance off. "Okay, so it's only one guy. But it's still a guy."

 

Lance flops back onto her bed and turns his head to face her. "So, I’m  _ bisexual _ .” he says, testing the word out. “What do I do?"

 

"I don't know." Pidge says. "You're the one who calls yourself the  _ Love Thief _ or whatever."

 

"Love  _ Ninja _ ."

 

"Okay. So just use your  _ ninja _ moves on him and boom, I don't have to listen to you pinning anymore."

 

Lance’s hums, and doesn’t speak for a moment before admitting “I think I’m gay. Only for Keith though.”

 

Pidge shakes her head, and jumps when Lance drops his spoon into his empty bowl in realization.

 

“Shit Pidge, what if h _ e _ isn’t?”

 

“Isn’t what?” she asks.

 

“Isn’t  _ gay? _ ”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry it’s short! Hopefully the next chapter is out soooooon
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!!


	4. It’s a Beautiful Day, the Bae Could be Gay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> squids are n a s t y
> 
> Keith isn’t, though

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honesty I keep feeling like this fic is getting worse and worse but your comments legit make my day I LOVE YOU ALL

Lance, never being the one to control himself, gags as soon as he opens the plastic bag.

 

He was hoping Keith would do it since he looked  _ so _ interested when Coran greeted them with a smile and a bag of cold, wet squids. But now, Keith seems to be far more interested in the faces he’s making.

 

And while Lance would  _ love _ for Keith to be interested in his face, the faces that the squids are pulling from him are  _ not _ ones that are going to make Keith fall for him.

 

“You doing okay there?” Keith asks, and Lance turns his head to look at him only to find the jerk smiling. “You look kinda sick.”

 

“You know,” Lance starts, “if you were a good person you would’ve offered to do this since the smell of dead marine life doesn’t seem to affect you as much as it affects me.”

 

“Well unfortunately for you, I’m not a good person.” Keith says, grinning. “None of us are, we’re about to stuff innocent squids with their own legs.”

 

“I think it’s best not to acknowledge that,” Lance says and he presses his lips together. He glances at the counter in front of them and laughs at the contrast between Allura’s horrified shrieks and Shiro’s laughter—although Shiro is using his prosthetic arm to pick up the squid so he probably can’t feel it.

 

Well, Lance is gonna feel it.

 

Keith, finally starting to help, reaches over and grabs one of the squids with two fingers. He lets it hang in the air for a moment before letting it drop onto the cutting board with a splat.

 

“Dude,” Lance wheezes. “That’s fucking  _ nasty. _ ”

 

“Cool,” Keith says honestly, and Lance watches with an open mouth as Keith even leans closer to look at it.

 

Lance closes his mouth when he realizes that there must be ‘dead squid particles’ in the air, but opens it again in disgust when he realizes that’s he’s been inhaling them through his nose for the past two minutes.

 

“Oh my god,” He groans. Keith looks at him with a lopsided smile, face still inches away from the squid. Lance lifts his hand to Keith’s forehead to push his face back—not even focused on the skin to skin contact but  _ solely _ on getting Keith’s gorgeous face away from the dead animal.

 

“Ok class!” Coran calls from the front of the room. “There should be four squids in each bag, no need to worry though. I went to the market this morning and picked them myself, they’re pretty big so there will be plenty for you to eat!!”

 

Lance breathes deeply. _ ‘Thank you, Coran.’ _

 

“You can just lay them out on your cutting board,” Coran continues, putting a squid on his counter. “Now pay attention because I’m about to throw a lot of information at you! First, you have to grab it by its tentacles and give it a yank, they should come out pretty easily. Then squeeze the entrails out of the body, and remove the clear quill. Don’t forget.”

 

Lance smiles, despite Coran’s very graphic demonstration, hearing Keith mutter ‘remove the quill’ to himself over and over.

 

“Next, peel the membrane off of the body and cut off the fins, we don’t want those,” Coran says. “Cut off the head, it’s attached to the tentacles, and squeeze the tentacles to remove the break.”

 

“Squids have beaks?” Keith asks quietly.

 

Lance nods and Keith frowns. “But they’re not birds...”

Lance laughs.

 

“Hop to it, class!” Coran cheers. “If you need any help, just give me a shout!”

 

Lance reaches into the bag to fish out the rest of the squid and grimaces when the last two are attached at the tentacles. “Ew.”

Keith coos. “They’re holding hands.”

“Adorable.” Lance deadpans.

“I don’t want to kill them,” Keith admits, watching Lance poke at the area where the tentacles are tangled together.

“I think they’re already dead buddy,” Lance says, reaching to pat Keith’s shoulder. Keith lunges away from him and Lance laughs. He goes back to pulling at the squid, when they finally come apart he places one down on the counter and mentally prepares himself for what he’s about to do.

“Sorry, little guy.” Lance apologizes to the squid still on the counter. “I’ve gotta, like, cook your wife.”

Keith snorts. “What if it’s his husband?”

Lance blushes. “Well I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty inexperienced in identifying squid genders.” He smiles. “But like, it  _ could _ be.”

Keith smiles, and it gives Lance a glimmer of hope.

Lance shakes his head. “Okay, just a quick pull, squeeze, peel, cut, and squeeze. Easy, it’s like a dance.”

“If this is how you dance then I’m never dancing with you.” Keith laughs

“And if this isn’t how I dance?” Lance asks skeptically.

“We’ll see,” Keith tells him, rolling up the sleeves of his red flannel while Lance sputters. “I’ll take his spouse.”

Lance takes a couple deep breaths before pulling his hands apart, feeling the tentacles detach from the body. “Oh my  _ God. _ ..”

He looks over at Keith and is shocked to find him already peeling away the purplish skin. “Dude, how are you so fast?”

Keith smirks. “Well,  _ I’m _ not getting all caught up in my emotions.”

“Excuse me for showing some compassion,” Lance says. “Poor squids.”

Keith shrugs, “Don’t forget the quill.” Then he grabs the knife and starts to cut the fins off and puts his knife down with a gasp. 

They work through all four of the squid, finishing right as Coran starts giving out the next set of instructions.

“Good job class! We’re going to start working on the filling, but don’t fret! It’s fairly simple.”

Lance sighs in relief.

“Take the tentacles and chop them up finely. Do the same with the anchovies, garlic, tomatoes, and rosemary but don’t add the tentacles just yet. We’re going to grind it all up first before mixing it.” Coran disappears under her counter for a moment before reappearing with a mortar and pestle.

Lance feels a sense of recognition—he  _ knows _ what that is. A restaurant his family often goes to makes their own guacamole and they serve it in the mortar. It’s the best thing ever, and his mom must have agreed because she went out and bought one for herself to use at home. Lance, being around nine at the time, used it to create noise pollution. He knows how to use it.

He sways on his feet while the rest of the class listen to Coran’s demonstration of the instrument because he already knows what that is. He also laughs at Keith, who winces every time the pestle makes an exceptionally loud sound.

When Coran gives them the go-ahead, Lance immediately gets to work. With Keith chopping the tentacles, he cuts the rest of the ingredients. After everything looks the right size, Lance uses both of his hands to scoop everything in the mortar and starts to grind it with the pestle. He checks the print out copy of the recipe that’s taped to their station and dumps the mixture into the bowl of breadcrumbs beside them.

Keith nudges him with his elbow to inform Lance that he’s done cutting the tentacles, and Lance pushes the bowl closer so Keith can dumb them in along with the rest of the filling.

“Attention everyone!” Coran calls again. “Now comes the fun part! You’re going to want to take one of the bodies and put a spoonful of filling in it, not too much because the filling will expand when we cook it. There should be some cotton thread and scissors in one of your drawers,” he says, pulling out his own spool. “Cut a piece off and use it to tie the open end of the squid closed.”

Lance and Keith watch Coran demonstrate and start to follow suit. Lance gets frustrated right away. Every time he tries to tighten the string it slips off, and he looks over to find Keith having the same problem.

Without speaking, they form a system. Keith holds the body at both ends while Lance ties the string near the open one. They work quietly until Lance speaks.

“How are you so comfortable with this? I mean, this is really grossing me out but you look...”  _ ‘cute, hot, out of my league,’ _ “fine.”

“Well,” Keith says, squinting at the ceiling like he’s thinking hard. “My dad’s brother’s wife is Korean and-“

“Why couldn’t you just say aunt?”

“-she always made the weirdest stuff for family dinners.” Keith finishes. They move on to the next squid. “One time she brought us live octopuses. And my parents made me eat it, cause refusing it would be  _ ‘impolite’ _ and an  _ ‘insult to the rest of the family’ _ .”

Lance makes a face. “Isn’t it octopi?”

Keith rolls his eyes. “I think it’s a part of the culture, eating it alive builds strength or something. I used to be super scrawny, so my mom actually took me to Korean restaurants to eat more of it.”

Lance laughs. “And did it work?”

Keith smirks and gestures to his own body. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

 Lance gulps and scans Keith up and down. Maybe it  _ did _ work, Keith isn’t scrawny by any means. He looks back at Keith’s face and he realizes that Keith knows what he’s doing.

“I mean, maybe?” Lance squeaks, making Keith laugh.

“Anyways, I was never really a picky eater so it didn’t really bother me.” Keith shrugs. “I mean, if you think about it all food is kinda weird and different before trying it.”

Lance raises an eyebrow thoughtfully. “I guess so.”

“You just gotta shove it down your throat and swallow. Thinking too hard about is what...”

Lance stops listening after that because there’s  _ no way  _ Keith is unaware of the innuendo. His face heats up because there are  _ so _ many things he could say in response but he keeps quiet until Coran yells to get the class’s attention.

“Alrighty, now we can start cooking the squids!” He pulls out a large pan. “We’re going to place a skillet on the stove, and pour a tablespoon of olive oil in it. Let it heat for a little while, you can start cutting the onion while you wait. Add the onion to the pan, and a three fourth of a cup of white wine.” Coran reaches under the counter and pulls out a bottle and grins. “It’s chardonnay!”

He claps his hands, and the class takes it as the signal to start back up again. Lance turns on the stove while Keith rummages through the cabinets for a pan.

Now familiar with a tablespoon, Lance measures out the oil with ease. Keith chops the onions, and Lance’s heart lurches when Keith’s eyes start to water despite knowing it’s the onions.

“You doing okay there?” Lance asks, mocking Keith from earlier.

“Shut up!” Keith snaps. “You know it’s because of the onions!”

“Really?” Lance asks. “I didn’t know you had such a soft spot for onions, Keith. And you were just hacking up dead squid a couple minutes ago.“

Keith growls. “I-”

“Here you are, boys!” Coran interrupts, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. He places a bottle of wine in front of them. “Don’t worry about exact measurements, you can just eyeball it!”

He moves on to the station behind them and Keith immediately grabs the bottle. “Sweet, free booze.”

“Keith,” Shiro calls from the station in front of them. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Okay,” Keith says, still holding the bottle.

“ _ Keith _ ,” Shiro repeats tiredly. He turns to Lance. “Lance, keep that bottle with you.”

Lance salutes him, and pulls the bottle out of Keith’s hands. He pours some into the pan and gives the bottle to back to Keith’s waiting hand, already forgetting Shiro’s instructions. He tosses the stuffed squid into the pan and crosses his arms, watching the liquid bubble.

He turns when he registers the sound of gulping.

“ _ Shit _ , Keith!” Lance yells, drawing the attention of Shiro and Allura. He stares at the bottle, which is currently being held upside down over Keith’s mouth.

Keith lowers the bottle and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand—Lance is too concerned about Keith’s liver to think about how  _ hot _ that was—and raises an eyebrow at Lance. “What? A sip won’t kill me.”

“A  _ sip?  _ That was  _ not _ a sip.” Lance says, very aware that Shiro’s disappointed head-shaking is definitely directed at both of them.

“Whatever,” Keith sighs. He moves closer to stand beside Lance and offers him the bottle. Lance accepts it readily and takes a couple of sips—“see, this is a sip”— while the squid finishes cooking.

When Coran tells them that the squids should be fully cooked, Lance uses a large spoon to fish out the four stuffed bodies and place them on an empty plate. Keith already has two forks in his hands, so they dig in immediately.

“I honestly don’t know how to feel about this,” Lance says. “It’s kind of chewy.”

Keith nods in agreement. “It tastes nutty.”

“Is it supposed to?”

“Ours tasted nutty too,” says Allura, leaning over the counter. “I think it’s interesting!”

Keith makes a face. “I don’t know if ‘interesting’ is the word I’d go with,” he reaches out to grab the wine bottle. “Man, I need to wash this down.”

“Nice try,” says Shiro, holding the bottle tightly. “Keith, your future husband isn’t going to put up with this.”

“He’d better,” Keith warns.

Keith says something else but the words “husband” and “he” are bouncing around in Lance’s head, preventing him from focusing on anything else.

… 

**Lance (11:47 PM)**

> PIDGE

> I THINK HE LIKES DUDES

**Pidge (12:08 AM)**

> good 4 u lance

> u better man up and stop acting like a dumb teenage girl huh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too happy with this chapter, but let me know what you think!


	5. Eat Like Your Crush Isn't Judging from Across the Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> is this a date? nahhhhh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLOOOOOOOOO it feels like I've been gone for /years/!! So much has happened, here's some things to take note of while reading this chapter:
> 
> -this chapter is unedited and it honestly feels /extremely/ rushed (in my opinion). i apologize for this, but i really wanted to get this chapter out; not because i'm proud of it but because i'm /touched/ that people continue to discover this fic and people are actually following the story  
> -after the whole Adam incident, I've changed Allura's and Shiro's relationship to just being (best!) friends, and while Adam may be mentioned time to time I'm not sure how to add him i the story just yet  
> -i am NOT following canon; Keith is still shorter than Lance, Hunk is still interested in Shay, Allura's ALIVE and she's LIVING
> 
> *fun fact*  
> -this is actually the first chapter i planned out for this fic!!
> 
> its rushed, it makes literally no sense, but its here!
> 
> enjoy! this! mess!

" _ Hello, class, _ " Hunk reads out loud, squinting at the piece of paper taped on the railing. " _ I'm terribly sorry for the short notice, but it seems that my sister was lacking a babysitter for this evening and I just couldn't say no. Unfortunately, I had no way of contacting you all, so please forgive me! I'll see you all next week, Coran _ ."

 

He shrugs. "Oh well, it's not his fault. At least it’s not anything serious."

 

Lance pouts. "Yeah, it still sucks though."

 

“Hello Hunk, hello Lance!”

 

The two boys turn in time to watch Shay step out of a yellow taxi, and she smiles as she walks towards them. “Why are you waiting outside?”

 

“Class is canceled,” Lance explains.

 

"Oh. Well, do you guys still want to do something?" Shay asks. "I mean, we came all the way here, we could hang out. You don't have to if you don't-"

 

"I'd love to!" Hunk interrupts. "I've got nothing better to do. Maybe we could eat upstairs?" He looks at Lance, pleadingly. “Will you stay, Lance?”

 

“Of course I will,” Lance tells him. “I’ve never eaten here before.”

 

Shay and Hunk make their way into the building's main room while Lance trails behind. They're greeted by one of the waitresses, and she gathers three menus and leads their group to an empty table. 

 

Lance lingers near the front, admiring the school of goldfish swimming around in a massive aquarium. Just as he turns to find his friends, he gets an idea. 

 

“Uh,” he says, gaining Hunk and Shay’s attention. “I’m going to wait out here for a minute, I’ll be there soon!”

 

Hunk raises an eyebrow. “Why? Is everything okay?”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance reassures. “I just…”

 

Hunk can’t  _ possibly _ know what he’s doing, but a look of realization still shows on his face. “ _ Oh _ , okay. Don’t be out there too long, Shay and I will probably order our food, soon.”

 

“Okay,” Lance says before walking towards the staircase that leads to the basement. He leans casually against the railing, scrolling through his phone until he  hears someone call his name.

 

"Lance?"

 

Lance’s head whips up, a smile forming on his face when he spots Keith. He waves excitedly, "Keith! Come join us!"

 

Keith smiles at him as he walks closer. “What are you doing standing around up here? Are you ditching class today?”

 

“Nah,” Lance says, “Coran ditched  _ us _ .”

 

The other boy’s eyes widen in surprise. “Really? So the class is canceled?” At Lance’s nod, he asks another question. “So...what are you going to do?”   
  


“Oh. Hunk, Shay, and I were going to try the restaurant upstairs—or I guess the restaurant on the main floor. This floor.” Lance rubs the back of his neck, nervously. “I just thought I’d wait for y-I mean, stay outside for a minute.”

 

Keith grins at him. “Yeah?”

 

Lance swallows. “Yeah.”

 

“I bet the food’s good if Coran works here,” Keith says. “In the restaurant, I mean.”

 

“I figured.” Lance laughs.

 

Keith rolls his eyes before gesturing over his shoulder. “So, I guess I’ll…”

 

“You’re not staying?” Lance asks sadly.

 

“I don’t know where to  _ go _ so-”

 

“You can obviously hang out with us, dude,” Lance tells him. “I thought it was kind of given.”

 

“I’m,” Keith starts, nervously, “ _ pretty _ bad with social cues. And people, and cooking.”

 

Lance raises an eyebrow. “I’m sure you’re not  _ that _ bad.” 

 

“I’m pretty bad.” Keith confirms. 

 

They both stand there silently for a moment, smiling at each other before Lance makes a suggestion.

 

“Want to head inside?” 

 

At Keith’s nod, he puts an arm around Keith's shoulders and guides the shorter boy further into the restaurant. "We figured we'd just eat here."

 

They make their way over to where Hunk and Shay are seated, and he lets Keith slide into the booth first before sitting down. Like a  _ gentleman _ . 

 

“Hey,  Keith!” Hunk greets. “I’m glad you could join us, have you eaten here before?”

 

“No, I haven’t,” Keith replies, reaching for a menu. “Have you?”

 

Lance shakes his head. “Nah, this is our first time too. So if it sucks, don’t blame me.”

 

“I will  _ definitely _ blame you,” Keith promises. “Hey, Shay.”

 

“It’s good to see you, Keith!” Shay says. “Have you been enjoying the classes?”

 

“Yeah, they’re fun.” Keith shrugs. “I mean, I probably will never cook again after the classes are over, but meeting you guys was nice.”

 

Hunk coos, and the next few moments are quiet as they choose from the menu.

 

Lance shifts closer to read the menu in Keith’s hands, and the other boy adjusts so Lance can see better.

 

He elbows Keith. “What are you getting?”

 

“I don’t know,” Keith says. “I usually wait until the waiter comes to decide.”

 

“Why’s that?”

 

Keith smiles. “I work best under pressure.”

 

When the waiter comes, Keith doesn’t allow her to get a word out before asking for lasagna. Lance laughs at this, managing to order a grilled cheese sandwich with a side of tomato soup through his giggles.

 

“So Keith,” Hunk starts. “Is Lance showing any promise or am I going to have to make dinner for him for the rest of his life?”

 

…

 

The food arrives when Hunk is in the middle of his  _ ‘I Can’t Take My Friends Anywhere Story’ _ .

 

“So then,” Hunk says, laughing. “Pidge is going  _ ‘faster, use those dumb long legs for something!’  _ and of course it works and Lance takes it as an  _ actual _ challenge-”

 

“She was  _ insulting _ my legs.”

 

“-so Lance gives the cart this one big shove and lets go. The cart crashes into the plantain chip display and the bags and Pidge all go  _ flying! _ ”

 

All of them laugh, making Hunk wait a minute before continuing. “So I come back from the baking section and find the store manager yelling at Lance and Lance is panicking because he  _ can’t find Pidge! _ ”

 

“How could you not find her?” Keith says, laughing like crazy. “She couldn’t have landed  _ that _ far away!”

 

“Keith, buddy,” Lance says. “Hunk wasn’t exaggerating when he said she flew. She  _ flew _ .”

 

“So where was she?” Shay asks.

 

“I gave up on looking for Pidge, I pretty much figured that she was a goner,” Lance says, feeling a bit prideful when Keith lets out a short laugh at that. “So the manager just looks at me and she says,  _ ‘Will you please just clean this up?’ _ And I’m like  _ ‘Yeah, of course.’  _

 

“We leave the store without buying anything,” Hunk sighs. “And when we got back to the parking lot, Pidge is sitting on the hood of my car. Lance just kind of,  _ stares _ at her, and she asks  _ ‘What took you guys so long?’ _ ”

 

“I had just spent the last ten minutes getting chewed out by a fifteen-year-old girl when the whole thing was basically her fault.”

 

“ _ Basically _ ,” Hunk emphasizes, “not entirely.”

 

“I’m glad I don’t have to go grocery shopping with you, Lance,” Keith sighs, cutting into his lasagna. “No offense.”

 

“None taken,” Lance assures, “although, if this was a movie this is probably when the scene cuts to the both of us the grocery store and you being all miserable like, _ ‘I spoke too soon.’ _ ” 

 

Keith rolls his eyes. “I’d say something against that if I couldn’t actually  _ see _ it.” 

 

“You’re picturing us shopping together?” Lance says, smugly. “Being all cute and shit? So domestic.”

 

Keith reddens as he tries to defend himself. “I...no I never-”

 

“Hopefully,” Hunk says, saving Keith, “shopping with Lance is something you’ll never have to be subjected to.”

 

_ ‘Well,’ _ Lance thinks, ‘ _ if Keith and I  _ did _ become a thing, would we do that kind of stuff together? Would we have a designated day of the week for going to the grocery store? Would we have to buy regular milk  _ and _ almond milk? Soy milk?  _ Coconut _ milk? Does Keith even drink milk? He really likes cheese so-’ _

 

_ But wait...what if he thinks I’m crazy after hearing that story? Heck, what if he’s thought that I’m crazy ever since the first class? Oh God, he’s been putting up with me for so  _ long _ -’ _

 

“Lance, are you alright?” Shay asks. “You spaced out a little, for a second.”

 

Hunk gives him a concerned look, and Lance smiles reassuringly. “No, just thinking.”

 

“That’s dangerous,” Keith comments, smiling. 

 

“If Pidge were here, she’d say that this is a historical event,” Hunk says, also giving Lance a smile.

 

Lance rolls his eyes playfully. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve already heard it all, hush up and eat your food.”

 

He lifts his spoon up to his mouth and fights back a curse when the soup slips off and lands on the front of his shirt. 

 

A frown forms on his face; which Hunk notices. His friend mouths ‘are you okay?’ at him before Lance shakes his head and slides out of the booth, heading to the bathroom.

 

“I’ll be right back!” He calls over his shoulder.

 

When he gets there here takes a minute to breathe, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He’s only mildly surprised when the door opens again a few seconds later, Hunk coming to stand beside him.

 

“Hunk,” Lance says, letting his head fall on Hunk’s shoulder. “Why am I so bad at this.”

 

“Bad at what?”

 

“This!” Lance shouts, “Eating, thinking, living, everything!”

 

“Aw buddy, please don’t say that.” Hunk soothes. “You’re not bad at this and you  _ know _ that. We were just joking, you know that.”

 

“Yeah, I do,” Lance sighs. “But like, my mind tells me those things too and I don’t think it’s joking.”

 

Hunk frowns. “Tell it to go away, then.”

 

A laugh. “Good advice, but if I’m this bad at thinking  _ know _ imagine me without my brain.”

 

“Keith’s out there probably telling Shay how much of a loser I am,” Lance says grumpily. “He’s probably asking her if he can join you guys in the classes so he doesn’t have to work with me.”

 

He huffs. “And the thing is, if he was I wouldn’t blame him at all. He’s so great Hunk, he deserves someone-”

 

“Who’s just as great,” Hunk interrupts. “Like you.”

 

He pushes Lance away a little to look him in the eye. “I don’t know why you’re so embarrassed, we’ve all forgotten to think things through before.”

 

“Maybe,” he says, just to satisfy Hunk. “But I spilled soup on my shirt.”

 

“So did I, last week!” Hunk reminds him. “Remember? At home?”

 

Lance nods. 

 

“You head on out, I want to wash the tomato out of my shirt.”

 

“Will do,” Hunk salutes, “text me if you want me to come back.”

 

Lance nods and turns on the faucet, allowing the water to run as he pulls paper towels from the dispenser. 

 

When the door opens again, he pays it no mind. So, he jumps a little when whoever came in comes up to stand right beside him.”

 

“Hey,” Keith greets.

 

Lance smiles, “Hey.”

 

“I was worried,” Keith says shyly. 

 

“No need to be,” Lance reassures. “I’m always like this.”

 

“Always like what?”

 

“Clumsy, messing up, you know.” Lance shrugs. “Usual Lance.”

 

"Hey," Keith says, grabbing his wrist. "It's okay."

 

“I know-”

 

“And I wanted to apologize,” Keith interrupts, “for the...jab I made at you, out there. I was kidding, but I could’ve struck a nerve and really offended you. So, sorry?”

 

Lance looks at Keith and allows himself to think. Keith barely knows him and he’s ordered a delicious looking piece of lasagna that’s probably getting colder by the minute but he’s  _ here  _ with  _ him _ .

 

Keith continues talking as Lance scrubs at his shirt. “When I said that I’m bad at people and social cues and all of that, this is kind of what I was talking about. I don’t know how to have a light conversation, or how to flirt. I’m not good at expressing myself, so I’m going to make this very unromantic.” He breathes, then says, “I like you.”

 

Lance’s eyes widen.

 

“I  _ really  _ like you. You’re so funny, and inclusive, and interesting. You have an awesome best friend who almost seems as great as you. You have beautiful eyes and nice hair, and you’re so dorky but it’s cute.”

 

“I like you too,” Lance says. “I-“

 

“Wait.” Keith interrupts. “I don’t want to do this.”

 

Lance’s heart sinks, and it must show on his face because Keith flounders.

 

“Oh gosh, no, that came out wrong.” Keith mumbles. “I don’t want to do this  _ now.  _ Lance, I like you. But I’ve also only known you for a few weeks, that’s not a lot of time.” He pauses. “I just, I wanna make sure that-.”

 

“Hey,” Lance interrupts, placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “It’s cool, and I totally get it.”

 

“So please don’t get frustrated about spilling a bit of food. Heck, I do it all the time. Look.” He pulls at his dark shirt. “I spilled mustard here and I didn’t wash it out in time. You can’t see it, but it’s there.  _ Haunting me.” _

 

Lance giggles, causing Keith to smile.

 

“I really like your laugh, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the reason this chapter took so long to upload was because i was kinda scared of disappointing people with the way it turned out. i feel like my other fic (gymnocalycium; give it a read!!) has helped me /somewhat/ improve as a writer and i'm currently in the process of editing the previous chapter. this chapter will /definitely/ be undergoing some MAJOR construction, but the ideas/events will stay the same. /that/ chapter will be released along with chapter six, so stay tuned! <3

**Author's Note:**

> this is gonna be my first multi-chapter fic so please give me the comments I desperately crave so I have motivation to continue this.
> 
> also, Lance is so ooc because his reactions are very much based on how I act around cute boys hahaha
> 
> hit me up on Tumbr>> keithfanatic01 <3


End file.
